The Wonders of Magic
by Rei Nevermore
Summary: During a hunting accident, Merlin has to reveal his most guarded secret to Arthur. How will the Prince react? How will it affect their relationship? Merlin/Arthur. Taking liberties with canon timeline. Lancelot is alive and with Gwen. Morgana is evil, Agravaine was found out working with Morgana earlier and fled the kingdom, Uther lives. Set before the end of Season 5.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Hello, fellow readers! Here goes nothing, just a little piece that had been nagging at my mind for a few days after I finished the whole 5 seasons in a little less than a week. English is my second language, so feel free to correct any mistake. Mistakes are to me what magic is to Uther! So, DIE MISTAKES. I cut it in chapters since it appeared to be long, so the next chapter(s) is/are coming very soon!_

_Warnings: Merthur slash. Rated M for a reason (not this particular chapter though)._

_Disclaimer: Of course I own nothing. This is all for my and your entertainment. If I did own something, that series would have had some interesting plot twists. Heh. My mind is reeling right now, so I'll let you go and start reading._

_Reviews are greatly appreciated! Thank you in advance for any comment you may leave.  
_

_PS: Kudos to anyone able to find the one (twisted) Star Trek reference in this chapter and in the next one too (when it will be published)._

* * *

The Wonders of Magic

The swords clashed and scraped against each other, drawing that screeching sound of metal against metal as a few sparks ignited to life due to the friction. The moves were calculated and precise, the attacks and the parries, the dodges and the ducking, the turn of the wrist as one of the fighters sent his blade straight and heavy into his opponent's shield. Brute force flirted with deadly precision, strong blows meant to trip followed light touches meant to confuse, and head-on charges skirmished with clever steps.

It was a dance, Merlin realized as he watched Arthur spar with Lancelot. A light and yet complicated dance where any misstep could mean injury or death. When the fighters weren't engaged in the kind of melees and tournaments the royalty of Camelot seemed to be so fond of, swordsmanship was actually quite beautiful to watch. Merlin's gaze was still on the fight, admiring every move. A duel, he thought, looked so much cleverer than the inanity of jousting. He noticed Arthur's arm raising a little, and his weight shifting to his right foot, making the sand covering the training ground sink a little. Merlin smiled, because he knew that move. Lancelot will end up on the ground – and not thirty seconds later it was exactly as he foretold. Arthur took off his helmet, dropping it next to him and spun around, granting every knight one of his bright smiles, before holding a hand out to Lancelot, who took it with a laugh and got back on his feet.

"Training's over for today, sirs!" the Prince shouted, before picking his helmet up and making his way toward Merlin. "Ah, training went very well this morning," he added, holding his arms out so that Merlin could start getting him out of the armor.

"That last move was a sure kill. Every time I see you use it, no one stands a chance."

Arthur looked up at Merlin, or more accurately looked down, as his servant was slightly bent over, working on the buckles at Arthur's side.

"So you _were _paying attention. I thought you didn't like fighting?"

"Well," Merlin said, looking at the Prince's face for a second, raising an eyebrow and making a face on purpose, "I don't like seeing twenty or more men fighting each other until only one is left, just to prove whose is bigger. I mean," he went on, seeing Arthur's mouth open but cutting him short, "There's just no point in risking injury or worse if there's not even a war going on."

It was Arthur's turn to raise an eyebrow.

"Some things are really lost on you, Merlin!" he said, and as said Merlin finished taking off the chainmail, he ruffled his hair, taking advantage of the fact that his servant had both hands full.

"Hey!"

"Get that to the armory, and have a bath ready for me right after!"

"Yes _sire_, as you wish, _sire_," Merlin grumbled, as he gathered the remaining armor parts in his arms and followed Arthur to the castle.

oooooooooo

After polishing Arthur's armor and tending to his bath, Merlin made his way to the dining room with the Prince. His thought were elsewhere for the greater part of the lunch, until Uther informed Arthur that they had been made aware of a woman practicing sorcery, and that she was soon to be brought back here and imprisoned. Merlin's eyes snapped back into focus, and he listened carefully. Arthur was frowning.

"What crime did she committed, father?"

"Well, she was working as a physician in a village close to the castle, but a traveler came this morning and informed us that she was using magic openly to heal the people. He was just passing through the village, and had hurt his hand, so they brought him to that woman, and she treated his wound normally, it was not very serious."

"Then how would he know about her using magic?" Arthur asked, frowning again.

"While he was treated, a young boy was brought in. He had been hurt working in the fields, an accident with a sickle, the traveler said. The wound was bad. The boy was laid on a cot on the far side of the room, and a curtain was drawn, but not entirely. The man said that he peeked through while washing his hands, and he saw her magic. He heard the words, and noticed the glow of her... spell."

Merlin strained his neck to see Arthur's face from the side, and saw that the frown had deepened.

"Father, may I ask you something?"

"Yes son, what is it?"

"If..." Arthur seemed to be choosing his words carefully. "If she didn't do anything but heal people, does she really deserve to be executed? I understand that magic can be used for evil, and that is what we have encountered the most, but someone who has good intentions..."

"Arthur. I have told you this all your life: it doesn't matter why magic is used or by whom. Magic is evil, it corrupts those who want to use it, even with good intentions. And," Uther added, jaw clenched, gazing hard at his son, "it was because of magic that your mother is dead. The discussion is closed."

Arthur pondered this, chewing on a piece of bread, before nodding curtly.

"Yes, father."

Arthur and his father finished eating in a silence as heavy as Camelot itself. The Prince finally excused himself from the table, and motioned for Merlin to follow him - quite uselessly, where else was he supposed to go? Merlin looked at Arthur walking before him, back stiff, his hands clasped behind his back. He suddenly stopped and spoke, startling his servant.

"What do you think, Merlin?"

"Er, about what?"

"That woman in the village, being a witch. I know that every person who had magic I've encountered till now tried to kill me, or my father, or destroy the kingdom, or everything at the same time. That is evil, but I don't know, using it to cure people don't seem _very_ evil to me."

Merlin drew in a breath, carefully weaving his next sentence.

"Do you want my honest opinion?" he asked, just to be sure he wasn't going to end in the stocks today.

Arthur rolled his eyes.

"When are you not honest, Merlin? Even when you shouldn't, you just speak your mind! So here, I ask you for your opinion, so don't refuse to speak just because I want to hear it, for once."

"So," he started, "healing and curing doesn't seem very evil to me either, even if magic is used to achieve that. I know every person you met and who could wield magic tried to affect the safety of the kingdom and the king, but _these_ were evil, and wanted to use their magic with bad intentions. Since magic was banned, no one, even those with no evil intent whatsoever, would come around showing their magic, even to heal someone. There are a lot of people who can use magic out there whom no one knows about, because if they did, they would be brought in and executed."

Arthur was silent again, thinking.

"My father thinks that magic corrupts people and renders them evil, whether they want to use is for good or not," he finally said.

"With all the respect due to your father, I disagree with that," Merlin said. He was glad for the opportunity of showing Arthur that magic wasn't always evil. "Hey, you did ask me to speak honestly," he shrugged, before flashing a sheepish grin at Arthur's bewildered face. "What is evil is the people who want to do evil things," he roughly summarized, "not the magic they happen to have, and they would be evil even if they didn't have magic. That's what I think." He cast a side look at Arthur. "Please don't behead me?"

Arthur let out a bark of laughter.

"Ha! No, I won't! You're a terrible servant, but I don't want to go through the trouble of finding another. Because I will _not_ have George at my service again. Definitely not." His grin diminished to a simple smile, and he added, "I asked you for your opinion, I'm not going to have you killed for it. Besides, what you said isn't... stupid." He spun around to resume his walk toward his chambers. "We're going hunting this afternoon!"

"Oh, just _great_, more mindless killing," Merlin complained aloud.

"I heard that!"

oooooooooo

Merlin just _knew_ that they should have avoided hunting this afternoon. It doesn't matter how, but he simply knew it. Well, no, actually, he hadn't known anything about how bad a hunting party could go. It just occurred to him that _every single time _Arthur dragged him along to do something where they could potentially be in danger, danger was never one to disappoint.

This is what was running through Merlin's mind as he rushed forward on his horse after Arthur, who had decided that he wanted to race a deer. Gwaine and Percival, who had accompanied them, were left behind, for they were taking a break when Arthur had spotted the deer. The Prince's crossbow bolt scared the animal, missing it only by a hair's breadth, and he had taken off. So had Arthur. And so had Merlin, but not after a string of colorful curses directed at the stupidity of a specific member of Camelot's royalty.

After many branches whipping at his face, Merlin spotted Arthur holding his horse still not so far from him. Putting his own horse to a trot, he then came to a stop near Arthur, breathing heavily.

"I swear... Taking off like that... Madness... Where's that deer anyway?"

"Oh, lost it," Arthur cast an uncaring look in the direction the deer had probably taken. "But, more importantly, look at that," he said, waving a hand to their right.

Merlin managed to hold back the snarky comment that was threatening to spill from his lips, looked the way Arthur was pointing, and saw some sort of clearing through the trees. It seemed to be sheltered by a thick grove of oaks, and from where they stood, they couldn't see much of it. Dismounting, Arthur tied his horse to a nearby tree and made way to the clearing, Merlin doing the same then following him, mumbling all the way.

Upon entering the place though, Merlin felt a chill, starting in the small of his back, up his spine and down his arms. It was not an unpleasant sort of chill though, but as Arthur prowled curiously around, only Merlin knew what it meant: something magical was at work here. The clearing was rather small, fringed with the thick trees almost all around, except for the small arch they went through. The ground was covered in thick grass, and to the side there was a pond of clear water with rocks at the bottom. A medium-sized plate made of stone stood near the pond, with some drawings and words engraved in it. Arthur decided to study it, and as he came closer to the plate, Merlin felt the chill come back, right up his neck, making the hair on the nape stand. Arthur reached his hand to touch it, and Merlin got such a sense of urgency that he opened his mouth, taking one step toward Arthur, about to shout something, but it was too late. Arthur's hand brushed against the plate, and it started to glow.

"What the... ?"

The glow exploded.

Merlin awoke to the feeling of Arthur shaking him and calling his name.

"Merlin? _Merlin_! Damn it, Merlin, just open your eyes!"

Merlin blinked, once, and groaned.

"Finally!" Arthur let go of him and heavily sat next to his groggy servant. "What the hell happened?"

"You tell me," Merlin answered, rubbing one eye. "_You _touched the thing, and all hell broke loose. Why do you always have to do something that will end up badly?" He regained full consciousness, and looked straight at Arthur, who looked vexed. "What? You are always the one to make decisions which have you or me injured in the end, when it's not _enchanted_ or something. "Let's go into that cave, Merlin, I want to see what's inside", "let's go through the Valley of the Fallen Kings, Merlin, it's a shortcut", "let's go fight a dragon, Merlin, it will save the kingdom"." Merlin rolled his eyes.

"Shall I remember you who exactly you are talking to?" said Arthur, raising his voice a bit and looking very annoyed.

"No sire," Merlin answered with a grin, "I know exactly who I'm talking to, my Prince."

He then proceeded to get up and walk toward the plate, leaving a bewildered Arthur behind. _That nerve! _he thought. He also got up, mumbling something about stocks, and noticed a faint shimmer near him, just before the lines of oak trees surrounding them. He frowned, then reached out, palm first, until it laid flat against... nothing. After the first moments of surprise, the Prince slid his hand to the left, then to the right. He pushed hard against the... nothing that kept his hand from going through.

"_Mer_lin!"

"What?" came the answer from the young man, who was crouching near the stone plate and examining it.

"There is an invisible wall all around the clearing."

"There... What?"

"Come and see for yourself."

Merlin got back up, looking at Arthur, who had both his hands in the air, obviously straining against something. He rounded the pond and approached the trees from the opposite side of where Arthur was standing. He noticed the shimmer, reached out, and bumped his hand against something. Repeating Arthur's motions, he tried to move his hands around, but everywhere there was this invisible force that didn't let him through.

"Ah, I get it now. Come here," he told Arthur, who had turned toward him. They both walked back to the plate, and Merlin pointed at the drawings. "Here, look at this. This drawing depicts the clearing and its pond, there the plate is glowing, and there is this sort of dome surrounding the whole clearing. And no exit. See this symbol here? We've already seen something like this, it's a druid mark. I think this may have been a secret and sacred place for them, with some sort of defensive spell, which you triggered when you touched the plate."

"Well then, let's get it down the same way."

Arthur put his hand on the plate again, looking around. Merlin shook his head, and wound a hand through his black hair.

"No, I don't think it works like that. This is obviously magic, since you don't have any, I wonder how you could even put it up in the first place. Moreover, look, there is something written on the plate, with another drawing. _Only magic can undo magic. _And if I understand the drawing here, someone who can use magic has to call the shield off by... attracting its power to themselves?" Merlin frowned, but it was what it looked like.

"Well, first, I think Gwaine and Percival will soon follow our tracks and find our horses. I don't know how long we've been gone, but it shouldn't be that long for them to find us."

Merlin nodded, and examined the plate again for some clue he may have missed, while Arthur walked back to the small arch in the trees that was their entrance into the clearing and started pacing. Not that long after, they heard the sound of several people riding toward them. Merlin jumped on his feet and joined Arthur by the arch, looking intently at their horses, or what he could make of them through all the leaves and branches. A moment later, they saw the two knights who were left behind earlier riding toward them. Percival pointed at their horses, and they stopped near them.

"Percival! _Percival_! Gwaine! We're over here!" Merlin shouted. None of their two friends seemed to hear. Gwaine pointed at their footprints in the slightly muddy ground, and started following them. Soon enough he arrived right in front of Arthur and Merlin, just before the small arch. He looked at the ground, puzzled, then seemed to take in his surroundings, looking around and frowning.

"Gwaine?" Arthur said, rather loudly. "Do you hear me?"

"Found something?" Percival yelled.

"Nothing!" Gwaine answered. "The tracks just stop there, there's nothing at all after that."

Merlin's eyes went wide, and turning to the Prince, he stated flatly:

"They can't see nor hear us."

"Seems like it."

Arthur sounded frustrated, and he tugged at his hair with one hand. Gwaine was heading back to Percival.

"Better go back to the castle, he said. Not much of a search party with just the two of us."

Percival agreed, and the two of them rode off, taking the other horses with them.

Merlin sagged against the invisible shield, putting one hand on his face.

"Greaaaaat, we're again in one big mess here..."

"Whining doesn't help," Arthur said half-heartedly. He wasn't feeling so optimistic himself right now.

But he couldn't know what was really on Merlin's mind right now. It was either use magic and hope to live, or both of them dying here.

oooooooooo

The sun was setting upon the forest, and still Merlin and Arthur were stuck in the clearing. Merlin had reached an agreement with himself, and he was decided. There was no way they were staying stuck in there until death do them part - which would be sooner than later, with water to drink but not a single bit of food to eat. He could wait until Arthur was asleep. But something in him longed to tell the truth to his Prince, his friend. Or so he hoped. He got up, jaws and fists clenched, and walked to the middle of the clearing.

"What are you doing?" Arthur asked Merlin, who had his back to him.

"I am your servant, aren't I?"

"Well... Sure you are, what the..."

"Please listen. I can get us out of here. Just..." he swallowed. "Just remember that I am your servant. Whatever happens, I have been, and always shall be, loyal to you and Camelot. Whatever happens, remember that. Remember that if you were not a prince, we could have been friends." He turned around, looking Arthur in the eye. "Remember that I trust you."

Before Arthur could say anything else, his mouth hanging open, Merlin raised his arms and faced each of his palms to the sides of the shield.

"Clachan crine sgiath, m'feargh skearn diolath!"

The words left his lips, loud and clear. His eyes glowed golden for a second, and the whole dome shielding the clearing glowed as well. From the top, it started to disappear, the light heading right to Merlin, who seemed to be basking in it. Arthur still hadn't managed to close his mouth, and witnessing this did nothing to improve his less than royal looks at the moment. When the last of the light had come to surround Merlin, it flashed, blinding the Prince, before disappearing completely.

When sight came back to Arthur, he saw Merlin kneeling on the ground, breathing heavily, and then collapsing. The blond man crawled on all fours, no matter the princely behavior, torn between anger at Merlin being able to use magic, concern for his frien- servant who didn't look so good after that feat, and a big imbroglio of thoughts that he was certain to deal with later. Just, not now. He reached Merlin and rolled him on his back, the motion having the warlock blink and cough. Merlin then drew in a shaky breath, closing his eyes, not really wanting to see Arthur's face right now.

Arthur had a million things he wanted to do and say, but the first thing he managed was not really consequential.

"I should kick your ass to the Valley of the Fallen Kings and back."

Merlin let out a raspy laugh of disbelief, before starting coughing again.

"You," he said, barely audible, "can have me in the dungeons as soon as we get back. Or if you prefer, you could always leave me here. I'm sure there are some hungry wolves close by."

Arthur, not smiling, shoved him hard.

"Don't joke with that. You. Hell, you..." He rubbed his face with his hands. "You lied to me from day one. Don't _speak_, for God's sake. Just... Shut up."

Merlin closed his mouth. Whatever he had wanted to say would probably sound more like croaking than talking. Arthur grabbed his arm, ungentle, and yanked him up. He rested Merlin's arm on his shoulders, holding his wrist, and grabbed his waist. Camelot was a going to be a long way back.

oooooooooo

By the time they arrived to the castle, Merlin could walk on his own, which was fortunate, since Arthur dumped him where he was standing as soon as they entered the main yard. He stumbled a bit, but managed to stay up. Arthur had not said a single word during the walk back. He saw the knights and Uther come down, and Arthur explaining how they got lost while he was chasing a deer, and how they had continued by foot to track it better, and how they ended up into a multi-tunneled cave that had taken them hours getting out of... Wait a minute.

Staggering slightly, Merlin grabbed the big stone banister and looked at Arthur. He had his back to him, but he was clearly and noticeably making something up. Sooo he wouldn't sleep in the dungeons tonight, nor face execution tomorrow. Nice. Since everyone present was starting to go back inside the castle, he started going up the stairs, but almost fell, until someone grabbed his arm and held him up.

"Merlin? What happened to you? I heard Arthur but you seem..."

"Gaius. Ah, I need to..."

"Yes, yes, well, let's get you inside first, alright?" said the elderly man, gently leading Merlin to their apartments.

Once Merlin was seated at the table with a hot bowl of soup in front of him, he retold everything that had happened.

"He _knows_, Gaius," and the fact was sufficient to make him blanch. "He knows, and now I will never be able to..." His voice became strangled. He laid his hands on his face and stayed like that a few moments.

"Merlin," Gaius said, "look, you heard Arthur, didn't you? If he wanted you dead, surely he would have told Uther right away. Instead, he lied about what you really went through."

"This doesn't say whether he will ever talk to me again," Merlin sighed.

"You'd better go to bed now, my boy. He didn't say anything about not coming to wake him up tomorrow, didn't he?"

"Well, no, but..." Merlin's stomach churned at the thought.

"Then you will go. Tomorrow. Now's the time to sleep, and don't make me force a sleeping draught down your throat," Gaius threatened.

Merlin all but ran up the stairs to his room. The old physician let out a hearty laugh.

"I'm sure Arthur will surprise you, my boy," he murmured for himself, "and in a good way."


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Hello again, fellow readers! My views chart exploded since yesterday, and my mailbox is piling up with followers and favourites. I'm very happy that the story is liked, but sadly, I only got a single review. It is very appreciated to have some feedback about your work, so while I'm not demanding anything of you, because I'm not like that, I would be very happy if you took a few minutes of your time to comment and give your opinion about it. Thank you everyone for reading!_

_So here you go, second chapter, I thought it would be the last, but it neared the word count of the previous one, and I still have much to say, so there will be a third chapter as well as a smaller epilogue. Look forward to it!_

* * *

The Wonders of Magic

The next morning, Merlin woke up, not remembering when he had finally managed to fall asleep. He had been tossing and turning for a good two hours after Gaius had ordered him to go to bed, replaying the scene in the clearing where he had revealed his powers to Arthur in his head, over, and over. Unnecessary to say that he was far from feeling refreshed. He rolled over on his stomach and buried his head in his pillow. He didn't want to go and face Arthur. He _so_ didn't want to go. Maybe he'll call in sick. Maybe he should slip off somewhere under the pretense of going to fetch plants for Gaius - no wait. If he did that, Arthur would think that he was getting drunk at the tavern again. No way.

There was a knock at his door, and Gaius peeked in.

"Merlin? Time to wake up. You wouldn't want to be late, would you?"

Merlin turned his head and shot a one-eyed glare at Gaius, who tried his best not to laugh. He opened the door fully and leaned on the wall.

"Come on Merlin, you are not in the dungeons or facing a hangman's noose at this precise moment, so I would think that you are not going to be any time soon."

Merlin mumbled.

"I can't hear you!" Gaius said, cupping an ear with his hand. "You know, old age, things like that..."

"Not dying won't make this whole situation _not awkward_, Gaius!" Merlin sat up while saying this, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. "I'm sure that he'll tell me to go away as soon as I'll step in his room. Well," he said slowly, "if he fires me, I hope he gets George in my place."

"I suppose this is your idea of a painful punishment?"

Merlin looked straight at Gaius, a smirk curling the sides of his mouth.

"You have no idea."

oooooooooo

Merlin took a deep breath, a plate containing Arthur's breakfast in his hands. He was standing before the doors of the Prince's chambers. He fidgeted, hesitating, raised his hand to knock, then snapped it back. Damn, he never bothered to knock, even when Arthur yelled at him for it, why would he knock now? He decidedly opened the door, set the plate on the table and went to open the curtains.

"'Morning!" he said briskly, not even looking at the bed where Arthur was laying. After that, he went straight for the drawers and started gathering Arthur's clothes for the day. He kept his eyes focused on the inside of the drawer. Dark pants, red shirt, underpants, socks, leather belt. All there. The boots were already near the bed. While he was rummaging through the clothes, he heard Arthur move around in his sheets, get up, sit at the table and start eating. Or, as Merlin glimpsed when he rounded the room to put the clothes on the bed, pushing his food around. The warlock arranged the clothes on the far end of the bed, then proceeded to make it, pulling the sheets and covers tight over the mattress. He glanced left, quickly, and saw that Arthur had even stopped pretending to eat.

Merlin finished his tasks, poured Arthur water he would not touch, and headed to the door. He opened it, then stopped in his tracks, hesitating. He turned his head to the side, saw Arthur watching him, and quickly averted his own gaze. It didn't prevent him from seeing the deep, slightly blue circles under the Prince's eyes and his tired expression.

"Why," he started, but his voice came out a strangled sound. He cleared his throat. "Why," he started again, softly, "am I not chained to a dungeon wall right now?"

Arthur looked at him intently. He had his elbow on the table next to his barely touched breakfast, and his hand both supported his head, tucked under his chin, and hid his mouth. Arthur had barely slept the previous night, hence the dark circles and the exhausted looks. He had had the night to think, at least. To think, and rage, and feel hurt and mistrusted, and disbelieve, only to remember himself that he had witnessed Merlin's magic with his own eyes. He also had plenty of time to replay Merlin's words too, right before he dissipated the shield. Replay them, recall them, remember them, round and round in his head. Even that specific use of magic had been to save them both from a defensive spell that would not let anyone see or hear them. Did Merlin want to kill him? Well, in that case why did he save his life the very first week he was in Camelot? To gain his trust and Uther's? It was _stupid_. Between Morgana and Agravaine, Merlin was surely not the one to have harbored traitorous ideas.

This is why Prince Arthur, in all his royal behavior, raised an eyebrow at Merlin, shifted his hand so that it would not hide his lips anymore, and said in the calmest manner he could muster:

"In the dungeons, Merlin? Why, I figured that if you did had evil intentions, let's say killing me, or the King, or do something awful to destroy the kingdom of Camelot, you could very well have done so during the four damn years you've been here."

Merlin still had his back to him, but his head was completely turned toward Arthur this time, eyes a bit wider than usual, and his jaw slacked. Arthur let the pause last for a better effect.

"Though, if you really insist, I think I can arrange something in a dark, creepy cell..."

Merlin spun around and started saying something, stuttering. Arthur laughed.

"No, I'm not sending you to the dungeons. For now. After all, " he said, more softly, "you did tell me that magic was only evil when used by someone evil." He leaned back in his chair and regained his composure, showing a straight face anew. "I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt."

Merlin was still looking at Arthur, surprise written all over his face. He looked down, then up at Arthur's face, with the smallest kind of a sheepish smile, looking so vulnerable that Arthur had to repress the urge to get up, ruffle his dark hair and punch him in the arm. Or something.

"Well... Thank you, I guess." And there was simple honesty in his eyes.

Arthur got up and waved a finger at him.

"Don't think we're done yet! We're spending the day outside. I need some fresh air. You'll make sure to have our horses ready, and go the kitchens to get us some picnic-like food. Now come here and help me dress!"

And for the first time ever, Merlin beamed at the order.

"Yes, sire!"

oooooooooo

Arthur led the way most of their ride until they reached the place he wanted to stop at. It was past a thin line of forest, at the top of a hill, and Merlin took the time to stop his horse and admire the view. If you looked east, you could see the hills going downward, into a green and seemingly calm valley in the middle of which shined a lake. Further near the horizon, there were high mountains, grey rocks and deep green pine trees, the top white with snow. Between two of them snaked a river, small thread of silvery white disappearing into the lake down the valley. It was beautiful.

Merlin turned his eyes to Arthur, who was pacing not far from him, looking for a place to sit. The blond Prince seemingly found somewhere he liked, for he stood there proudly, head held high and hands on his hips. Merlin covered his fit of chuckles with his hand. Arthur then looked at Merlin, gesturing.

"Hey! I didn't bring you here so that you could drool over the view! Come over here and set the blankets!"

"Yes, yes..."

Merlin dismounted, grabbed the food basket and the blankets from his saddle and walked over to where Arthur was standing. Putting the basket down, he set the blankets on the ground, knelt on them and got the food out. It wasn't a feast, just some sort of picnic for two. Cold chicken, salted pork, ham, a bowl of small tomatoes, fruits and several pieces of cake for dessert. When he was done, he sat, cross-legged, and gazed at the valley below once again. Arthur just slumped on the blanket, lying on his back but propped up by his elbows.

They started eating in silence, simply appreciating the atmosphere and the sounds of nature, the birds in the trees nearby and the wind blowing through the leaves and the grass. Merlin was completely lost in thought, staring idly straight in front of him, eating his lunch automatically. Arthur seemed to be thinking too, but his gaze often stopped on his servant. After finishing, the Prince let himself fall on his back with a "humph", startling Merlin back to reality. He stretched on the blankets, then sat back up and looked directly at Merlin, who had the slightest of smile ghosting his lips.

"So," he began, and neither he nor the other looked away from each other's eyes. "Tell me. You did _show_ me, kind of," he explained when Merlin gave him a confused look. "But I want to hear it from you. So, tell me."

Merlin looked down at his own hands, which were tightly clasped around each other. He breathed deeply.

"Arthur," he said, and his voice could barely be heard, "I... I have magic."

He cast Arthur a side glance. The Prince's face was unreadable.

"So I heard," he shot back, half amused, half sarcastic. His tone changed when he saw Merlin look down again and swallow. "How long have you been..."

"Always," Merlin answered. "Most of people learn and study magic in order to be able to use it. I was simply born with it. Since I was born, or at least since I was old enough to have instincts and strong emotions, I could do magic, but I didn't even know it."

"So some people just can't choose whether to practice magic or not?"

"More or less, yes. As for me, it always was instinctive. I never cast real spells before coming to Camelot."

"Not until Camelot?"

"Yes. My mother sent me here, to be taken care of by Gaius. She felt I would be safer with him, with my... special gifts."

"Does Gaius know about you?"

"He does. Well," Merlin added with a smile, "the first thing I did when I met him was use magic to save his life, so it was a bit hard to hide it from him."

"You've always been a klutz anyway, it doesn't even surprise me."

"Hey!"

Arthur laughed at him, then looked up, at the clouds above them.

"Does anyone else knows?"

"Well, my mother did, of course, as I said before. Will knew, too..."

"Your friend Will from Ealdor? But," he added after Merlin's nod, "before he died, he said that..."

"Yeah, he said that he was the one who created that tornado. But it was really me. He said that to protect me..."

They were silent for some time.

"I'm sorry," Arthur said, and Merlin shook his head.

"It's alright. To finish with your question, Lancelot knows too."

Arthur's eyes shot back at Merlin.

"_Lancelot_? Why does _he_ know about that?!"

"He found out by accident. I never intended to tell him or anything, he just found me out after I enchanted his lance to defeat the griffin..."

"Wait, wait, wait, you _what_?"

"Erm... Long story." Merlin rubbed the back of his head, looking away.

Arthur rubbed his eyes with one hand, sighing, before dropping the subject.

"Say, why did you never tell me?"

Merlin snorted.

"The very first thing I witnessed upon arriving to the castle was your father executing someone for "the crime of sorcery". How was I supposed to outright tell his son that I was a sorcerer very much like the one who had just been beheaded? You would have sent me to the dungeons and have me hanged by the end of the day. Don't say that you wouldn't," Merlin pointed a finger at Arthur who had opened his mouth to protest, "I never saw you questioning, even by yourself, your father's attitude toward magic before very recently. You would have thrown me in prison. I'm very surprised you didn't, last night."

Arthur kept his mouth shut for some time.

"You're probably right," he said in a sigh. "I really don't know how I would have reacted if I had found out earlier." A pause. "I was angry, yesterday. I felt betrayed. But," he cut Merlin short by raising his hand, "I thought about what you said. You made me realize that despite all the sorcerers wanting to kill me, it was not proof that every single people with magic was evil. My father is too stubborn to see that. And, now that I know this, if you did help me out magically every single time I suspect something not entirely normal happened, then there is no reason to doubt you."

"Magic is everywhere, Arthur," Merlin smiled, looking away, secretly happy that his trust in Arthur was not misplaced. "The Old Religion existed for a reason. It is present in nature, and to some extent, in every single one of us. Saying that magic is evil is like saying weapons are evil. Think of magic as you would think of your sword: with your sword, you can either kill without any reason, or protect someone in need. Magic is the same. Human beings are the ones capable of evil, whether they use magic or a blade to hurt others."

Arthur stared at Merlin so long that the latter was starting to fidget. The Prince suddenly laughed.

"I never thought you capable of saying such clever things, Merlin," he chuckled at his servant's scandalized face. "Maybe you're not a complete fool after all!"

Arthur ducked the apple thrown at him, still laughing.

"Sooo, anyway, those powers of yours might come in handy now that I know about them."

"Arthur," Merlin said, looking worried, "I don't intend to let anyone else know..."

"Of course you don't, and I certainly don't either," Arthur waved a hand dismissively. "Only when it's just you and me, maybe, which often happens when we are in trouble anyway." He looked sideways at Merlin, who raised an eyebrow. "So, can you... you know. Do something? For me?"

Both of Merlin's eyebrow shot up.

"You mean..."

"Yes, I do mean that. Magic. Please?"

Merlin just stared for a moment. Arthur never said _please_. Arthur gave orders and commands. Arthur demanded. Arthur didn't simply _ask_. And certainly not with _that _face. The Prince was wide-eyed like a kid on the day of his sixth birthday, discovering a pile of presents. His eyes were honest and curious, strands of hair were ruffled by the wind and sticking in every direction, his lips drawn up in a half smile. Merlin felt something tighten in him. His destiny was to protect this man. And he did so, without any second thought, because he considered him a friend and gave him his trust. Right now, he was his servant, but with time, he hoped they would be able to attain and maintain some kind of friendship that was bound to define them both.

This is why Merlin, slowly and deliberately, raised a hand toward the fruit basket, holding Arthur's gaze all the while, breaking it only to focus on one apple, breath out a word, and have the fruit float between them, revolving on itself.

Arthur had stopped breathing at the utterance of the magic word. He had had spells yelled and thrown at him before, but this was completely different. He felt the power, but he wasn't afraid or feeling threatened. When he had heard Merlin whisper this word, and seen his blue eyes become liquid gold for a second, he had felt a chill in every part of his body. His eyes trailed from Merlin's face to the floating apple. He felt compelled to reach out, and brushed the fruit with his fingers, before taking it into his hand. He stared at it for some time, rolling it back and forth in his palm, before setting it aside. He moved swiftly, getting closer to Merlin, who looked up in surprise and backed up a bit. Arthur knelt in front of him, sitting on his heels, staring intently.

"Again." Merlin just stared back. "Do something again. Please."

Once more, that word. Merlin sat back up, mirroring Arthur and sitting of his heels, their knees almost touching. He looked more confident when he extended his arms on either side of him, concentrating. His brow furrowed, his eyes narrowed, and a string of smooth words escaped his lips. His eyes glowed golden. Arthur stared, entranced. The wind blew harder, shuffling their blankets and pushing the basket to the side. Their hair flew everywhere, mostly in their eyes, and their clothes slapped in the sudden gust of wind. It circled around them, gathering all the dry leaves on the ground, shaking the trees and setting fresh leaves loose. The forest wasn't far, and the late summer's heat had taken its toll on the trees, drying the leaves and leaving them half naked in a sort of premature autumn.

All the leaves gathered around them, circling, and in another flash of golden eyes, Merlin sent them up in the sky, where they assembled to take the form of a dragon, flying in circles above them. Arthur couldn't believe what he was seeing. Amazed, he wrenched his eyes from Merlin to look up at the wonders happening right before him. He admired the leaf dragon for some time, and looked back at Merlin, who was smiling brightly right at the Prince. Merlin let out a small laugh, and moved his arms so that the dragon was flying up, up, the highest possible, and Arthur had a revelation. _This_ was Merlin. The real Merlin. The one who could take a thousand leaves and make a dragon out of them. This was his true nature, and it was enthralling to look at. The dragon suddenly disappeared, each leaf floating back down to cover a good portion of the ground all around them.

Merlin smiled up, looking at the leaves falling, then scratched his head, glancing at Arthur, eyes still full of mischief.

"Er... Maybe I did get a bit carried away?"

And Arthur burst into laughter. He flopped down on him back, still laughing, while Merlin gradually turned scarlet and looked around in sheer embarrassment.

"That," Arthur wheezed, "was probably the most incredible thing I have seen in my whole life."

Surprised, Merlin looked at him.

"Surely not! We saw a good bunch of incredible stuff these past years. You even got out to fight a real dragon!"

"Yes, but that was dangerous as hell. That most certainly was not. Hey, Merlin," he said, more seriously. "Thank you. For sharing. And for all the things you've done that I most likely know nothing about."

Merlin looked down, smiling lightly.

"Well, thank you for not hanging me, I guess!" he said, drawling his voice on purpose, making his most annoying face at the Prince.

Said Prince swiftly tackled him without any kind of warning, caught his head in the crook of his elbow, and rubbed his scalp with his fist without mercy. Merlin yelped at the unexpected attack, and poked Arthur hard in the ribs, trying to break free. Not expecting Merlin to defend himself, the blond allowed himself to be pushed to the side, before grabbing Merlin's shirt and, taking advantage of the momentum, rolled them completely over, Merlin stuck under him, each of the Prince's arms pinning the other's to the side.

"Don't fight, Merlin," he playfully drawled. "You _know _I'm stronger than you."

He felt the slim body go limp in defeat, and opened his mouth to say something victorious. He certainly didn't expect the blue eyes to turn golden and a force to hit him straight in the chest, just hard enough to topple him over.

"Hey! You cheated!" he exclaimed.

"Really?" Merlin propped himself on one elbow, smirking at his Prince. "You have strength, I have magic, to each his advantage!"

Arthur snorted, and spent several minutes sulking, even if Princes didn't sulk, of course. Merlin laughed, and felt like reaching out and brush Arthur's bangs out of his eyes. He didn't, and fell back in his previous position, staring at the clouds. They stayed up the hill a few hours more, sometimes talking, sometimes not, before gathering their belongings and riding back to Camelot, with more knowledge of each other than they possessed before, and an entrusted secret strengthening their bond.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Hello again, fellow readers! I hereby present you the third chapter of this story, with another one coming up, as well as the epilogue. I would really like to hear your opinion about this one, it made my life hard. Thank you to everyone reading, following, favoriting, and taking the time to leave a comment!_

_Off we go!_

* * *

The Wonders of Magic

Merlin felt... content. Really. There was nothing more he could wish for right now. Oh, well, after all, maybe some free time... But anyway. He was standing behind Arthur's chair in the dining room, holding a jug of wine, and not doing much except filling Arthur's cup when it was empty. He was thinking of everything that had happened today, and he felt genuinely at ease with how Arthur had taken the news of his magic. First, he wasn't going to die or have to leave the kingdom and never return, and second, he hadn't lost Arthur's trust, which, all in all, was all that mattered.

His eyes fell on the Prince of Camelot, and stayed there. He smiled again and rocked back and forth on his heels, feeling a bit tipsy at the thought that finally, one of the most important people in his life knew the truth about him, and that his secret was safe. Well, according to the dragon and the prophecy, Arthur seemed to be _the_ most important person in his life. Two sides of the same coin, opposite but complementary. That was what they were indeed. What else had Kilgharrah said not long after Merlin had just met Arthur and they were still at odds? _One half cannot be angry with that which makes it whole_. His other half. That sounded weird, Merlin frowned. Wasn't the term "other half" used about married people or something like that?

Merlin snapped out of this particular train of thought when he saw Arthur get up from his chair, take his leave and start walking to the door, casting a look at Merlin doing so. Merlin put the jug back on the table, bowed stiffly to the king and followed Arthur out of the room. They reached the Prince's chambers, chatting quietly.

"By the way, Merlin, do you remember that woman my father was intent on arresting yesterday? Was it yesterday?" He scratched his head. "No, it was the day before that. So much happened I'm not even sure I remember which day we are today..." He glanced at Merlin with a small smile, and Merlin smiled back. They stayed like that a moment, just gazing at each other lost in thoughts, before Arthur cleared his throat and looked away. "So, yes, that woman, who was using magic to cure people?"

"Yes, I remember. You asked me my opinion after that."

"God save me." He grinned at Merlin's raised eyebrow, before becoming serious once again. "Well, my father told me that the knights who went to capture her should be back tomorrow. She will probably be executed..."

Merlin looked down, and sighed.

"Well, I don't think you or me can do anything about it right now. You cannot really stand up to your father openly."

Arthur looked at him. Merlin understood his position, but it cannot make it any easier.

"I'm sorry," he said.

Merlin shook his head.

"It's not your fault."

The warlock walked to Arthur and started helping him undress. He took the clothes absently, his mind elsewhere, intending to bring them to the laundry room. He stopped on his way out.

"Do I blow the candles out?"

"No, it's alright, I will read a bit before sleeping. I'll see you in the morning."

"Good night, Arthur."

"'Night."

Merlin got out of the room and closed the door. He was feeling funny now. Something in his stomach turned and clenched and didn't quite agree with the rest of his body. He got down some stairs, dropped the clothes in the laundry baskets, and proceeded to get back to Gaius' rooms. Gaius, who had dinner ready for both of them, smiled at Merlin when he entered.

"Well, my boy," he said carefully. "I don't see your "impending doom" look upon your face tonight, so I guess nothing drastic has happened with the Prince today?"

Merlin all but collapsed on the bench before his plate, but when he looked up at his father figure, he was beaming.

"All went fine, Gaius. Really. It's not a problem anymore."

"I told you so," Gaius cast him a pointed look. "Arthur isn't stupid. I'm glad it turned out alright though."

"Don't tell me. I don't know what I would have done otherwise. If he had refused to listen. If he had sent me away..." Merlin's voice became tenuous, filled with something indescribable. Gaius looked up, observing his pupil carefully. "But he didn't," Merlin continued. "He did listen to me, and he believed me. He believed _in _me. He was even interested in magic, asking that I showed him something," he added, quite affectionately.

Gaius looked thoughtful for a moment, but Merlin was now busy eating and didn't notice. The elderly man then smiled knowingly.

"Maybe this is for the best, after all..." he thought aloud.

"What? Ah, yes, everything's for the best now. I can protect Arthur the way I never could before. At least when half the castle won't be looking," he added in afterthought.

Gaius shook his head slightly, for Merlin had misunderstood his meaning, but that too was for the best.

"I assume you had a long day, boy, so finish up and go get a good night's sleep!"

Merlin, smiled, and finished his dinner. He got up and bid Gaius good night, heading to his room. He kicked his boots off in a corner, suspended his jacket to the rack on the wall next to his bed, took his shirt off, and all but fell forward on the mattress, clad only in his undershirt and pants. He thought of Arthur, which was often these days, though this time it was in a happier manner than the night before, when he had worried half the night about the Prince's reaction to his secret. His stomach was started to tighten and feel funny again, so he rolled over so that he laid on his back, one arm folded under his head, his other hand resting on his belly.

He remembered Arthur's astonished look when he had first witnessed Merlin's magic, his frown at the news of a woman who only helped people being arrested and soon executed, his smile when he had laughed at Merlin after teasing him about the dungeons, his serious face while listening to Merlin talk about his magic, the - almost - hurt look in his eyes when he learnt that Lancelot knew about Merlin and not him. His curious, earnest expression when asking Merlin to use magic for him, his thoughtful one when he had touched the floating apple, the way he had come closer to look directly at Merlin's face, his knees brushing the Prince's, the intent gaze at Merlin's eyes when he had created that dragon made of tree leaves.

His look of enthrallment at seeing Merlin like this. His laugh, free and warm, after the dragon had exploded in a thousand leaves. Arthur tackling him to the ground, rolling him over, straddling him and pinning him to the ground. Merlin's own quick breathing, head full of slight panic and something else at the proximity of their bodies when Arthur had bended forward, ready to proclaim his victory. His blue eyes sparkling, his face close. So close. And Arthur pouting after he was thrown off Merlin by a well-placed magical push. Arthur being Arthur.

Merlin's eyes opened in the relative dark of his room, and stared at the ceiling. This funny feeling wasn't something he ate. Destiny, alright, but was he supposed to care that much, really? He'd willingly lay his life down to save Arthur's if needed. Maybe that was the problem. He remembered Gwaine asking him, _what would make you ready to die for someone else?_ _There are several reasons_, Merlin had answered, almost without thinking. _It has to be something you care about. Something that's more important than anything else. _Was Arthur's life more important than anything else? Was _Arthur_ more important than anything else?

Merlin sat up in his bed, rubbing his stomach. Thinking of Arthur smiling made some kind of warmth spread within him. According to the prophecy, Merlin was supposed to protect Arthur as long as either of them lived. That seemed a rather long time, so maybe it was best if they cared about each other at least. What worried him is that Arthur had started to become the major part of his life already. And that funny feeling. That funny, tightening feeling clenching in his belly every time he thought of, or looked at Arthur - in a different context than his daily duties and their usual interactions, of course. It would be terribly awkward otherwise. It reminded him of the small amount of time he spent alongside Freya, and, honestly, that is what confused him the most: the sheer similarity of his desperate affection and protectiveness he once had toward the girl, and what he felt right now for the Once and Future King.

oooooooooo

Arthur rolled over in his bed, settling on his back. Then, he turned to the side, pillowing his head with his folded arm. Mumbling, he tried laying on his stomach, only to turn again on his back not a minute later. Lying wide awake, he stared at the ceiling of his four-poster bed. What was wrong with him tonight? He just couldn't get his brain to shut down and let him sleep. As soon as he closed his eyes, he was flooded with images of Merlin, speaking strange words and making a dragon of leaves fly over their head, eyes flashing golden. Of course he would think of it, actually. It was something he had never witnessed before, and it had been marvelous to look at.

He knew Merlin's most hidden secret. Something about that made him feel proud and warm. He knew something important about Merlin that very few did. After the incident in the clearing, Merlin hadn't disappeared, hadn't ran away in fear of execution. He had faced Arthur, worried but daring, trusting him to make the right choice, to do what felt right. And Merlin's smile had told Arthur that he hadn't been disappointed by the Prince's reaction.

Well, of course it had been a shock. He had been so blind. He let out a chuckle. He was now pretty sure that Merlin had never set one foot in the tavern, and every time Gaius had served him that excuse was because he had wanted to cover for the young sorcerer, who was most likely busy fixing something magical with his own powers. There was an awful lot of other occurrences he would have to ask Merlin about, too. And most certainly some occurrences he never noticed at all. He had no reason to doubt Merlin, or his loyalty. After all, the man was one of the people closest to him. He had been very close to Morgana, once, she had been the sister he never had, but that time had been over for a long time now. Even if she actually was his half-sister, the circumstances... And they had grown apart even before that. His father did love him, but didn't really show it, and he never confided in him. Merlin, though, was different. Arthur had disliked him, thought he was just an annoyance. But Merlin had saved his life and almost died for him countless times, he even drank poison in his place, and then Arthur had drunk poison in Merlin's place - even if it hadn't really been poison. Arthur had borne with him, then had learnt to know him, and soon had started to appreciate him. He had told him things about him no one else knew about. Merlin had become his closest... friend.

He turned again on his side, and remembered his bewilderedness when he first saw Merlin use magic. His determined eyes fixated on Arthur's, becoming the color of gold for one second at best, his voice sure and unfaltering as he spoke the ancient words of power. Arthur remembered these words, and shivered, though not from cold. At that time, he had been quite panicked and astonished. It had been better when Merlin had breathed that single word to levitate the apple, because he had been expecting it. It had been even better when he had conjured the dragon. His deep voice forming those silky words full of latent power, which had seemed to hover around Arthur and brush and caress his skin. He liked the husky tone Merlin's voice took whenever he spoke the magical language. It was... _entrancing. _It was something new, something unknown, and at the same time it was Merlin, the Merlin he had always known and now cared about, and Arthur was drawn to this new side of him irresistibly. Simply remembering it had the heat form and pool in his lower belly, and a pang of _longing_, sudden and unexpected, reverberated in his whole body.

There was _definitely _something wrong here.

oooooooooo

Merlin was jolted into consciousness by a rough hand shaking his shoulder, though not ungently. Blinking several times and trying to both sit up and turn on his side, he managed to focus his eyes on Arthur's face, before panicking and glancing at his window, which was his usual means of roughly determining what time it was when he opened an eye. It was barely more than dawn, he estimated.

"I'm not late!" he protested, casting a scandalized look at his Prince.

"For once," came the answer, along with a small smile. "But you're right, it's not even eight. Listen, Sir Leon came back injured not half an hour ago, I was sent for at this moment. He was supposed to bring the woman who uses magic back to Camelot, but they were ambushed by Saxons. I'm taking the knights to investigate and see if we can find them. Pack your things and have my horse ready in half an hour, I'll need you too." Arthur clasped Merlin's arm briefly and let go, then got up and left to also prepare for the journey.

Not long after that, Merlin was riding alongside Arthur through the forest. Leon had shown them the place where the attack had taken place, and had stayed in the castle to have his wounded arm treated. Lancelot, Percival, Gwaine, Elyan and a dozen of guards were riding with them. It was more than a search party, if they encountered the Saxons, they were ready to defend themselves. Leon had spoken of about fifteen aggressors, who had unfortunately not lost a lot of their own.

The place they were headed for was rather far from the castle, deep into the forest, and after two short breaks to have a drink and a bit of food, they came in sight of the part of the road where Leon and his group were ambushed. Arthur dismounted, ordered the guards to form a circle around them and look out for any sign the Saxons, while the knights, Merlin and himself would examine the place and the bodies. Leon had been accompanied by ten guards, and they found them all lying on the ground, along with several Saxons. There was no sign of the woman they were bringing back to Camelot. It was safe to think that she had been taken by the remaining Saxons, or that she somehow managed to escape.

Arthur stood in the middle of it, frowning. His brow was furrowed and his eyes harsh. Merlin hesitated to come near him, and finally walked toward the Prince. Arthur hated it when his people died. He cared for his people, and that was one of his most precious qualities as future king. The Prince's blue eyes fell on Merlin as he spotted the dark-haired man approach, and they shared a look, Merlin's gaze full of concern and compassion, Arthur's tinted with bitterness. The blond eventually called out to the guards, and they regrouped. He told half of them to bury the dead, and he led the rest of the group, along with the four knights and Merlin, to follow the tracks left by the Saxons.

They were led off road, and on a sign from Arthur, the group spread out fan-like. After ten minutes or so, they came in sight of a camp. Several tents could be seen, but there wasn't a sound to be heard. Arthur unsheathed his sword and motioned to the guards, who prepared their crossbows. Gwaine and Lancelot stayed with Arthur, while Elyan and Percival walked left and right respectively to skirt around any patrol and cover their flanks. They advanced slowly, Merlin trying his best to be stealthy and not walk on a dried up branch. The camp was deserted. They all gathered inside, still on the lookout for any sign of hostility.

Arthur knelt before the fireplace, took off his glove and reached out.

"The embers have been covered, but they are still glowing. They can't be far, be careful."

Merlin had an uneasy feeling building up in his stomach. Maybe it was nothing, Merlin tended to get uneasy feelings every time Arthur set foot out of Camelot anyway. He treaded slowly to where Arthur was advancing, keeping close to him, glancing sharply around for any suspicious movement. A soft sound came to his ears, and he stilled. It sounded like a moan, a whimper. Arthur sent the guards around the camp on the watch, while the knights investigated. Merlin heard the moan again, and walked in the direction it seemed to come from.

"Arthur," he breathed, and blue eyes looked back at him questioningly.

Merlin motioned toward the tent which was the furthest away from where they stood, near the very edge of the camp. They walked to it, and Arthur entered first, Merlin on his heels. Inside laid, bound and gagged and resting on a pile of dirty straw, a woman. Arthur planted his sword in the ground, took out his knife and proceeded to untie the ropes around her wrists, then around her ankles, to finally untie the gag. She was maybe thirty-five, the lines on her face starting to show, and her hair was still mostly spared by the grey. Her blue dress of simple linen was dirty and ripped in some places.

"Were you hurt?" Arthur asked her, replacing his knife at his belt, and she shook her head, massaging her wrists. "Would you by chance happen to be the woman who was arrested in Alancre some days before, and who was taken to Camelot by one of my knights, Sir Leon?"

The woman cast him a sharp look, a grim expression on her face. She held her head high, and her voice was composed when she answered.

"Yes, Arthur, Prince of Camelot. It is me who your knight arrested for a crime I did not commit."

The blond Prince sensed Merlin tense next to him, and he contemplated his next course of action, a frown on his face as he looked at the woman who was still holding herself up with pride. He sighed.

"Then leave." Both Merlin and the woman looked surprised at his words. "You are free to go. Be careful of the Saxons. You died in the attack anyway."

The woman stared at him, then understood his meaning. She got back on her feet, and bowed slightly.

"This will not be forgotten, Arthur Pendragon. I thank you."

She slipped out of the tent, and was already disappearing between the trees when the two men emerged after her.

"Surprising," Merlin started, a small smile gracing his lips.

"_Merlin_."

"Should I shut up now?" the warlock asked, smile rapidly becoming a grin.

"Spot on."

Merlin was about to retort something when a hissing sound was heard, and one of their guards dropped dead, a crossbow bolt straight through the chest.

"Take cover!" Arthur bellowed. "We're under attack!"

A group of about twelve Saxons rushed through the trees and engaged the knights and the remaining guards. Arthur started running to help the others, but was suddenly sent flying backwards. Merlin gasped, and spotted a figure in a dark cloak a bit to the side of where the fighting was happening.

"Sorcerer!" He yelled at Arthur, who was sitting up and blinking, groggy and disoriented by the impact. "I'll keep him occupied!"

And with that, before Arthur had the time to protest, Merlin passed him in a sprint and went into the forest, leaving the camp. The Prince cursed, glanced back at his knights and guards, and saw that they could handle the small group of opponents. He grabbed his sword and got back on his feet, staggering, and started running after the warlock.

Arthur thought he was running around in circles forever. Sometimes he thought he glimpsed Merlin's figure, but when he turned his head he was never here. Sometimes he thought there was the hooded and cloaked form of the sorcerer behind him, but when he looked there was never anything. He was running past trees, and trees, and more trees, and was he actually going forward or was he simply lost? He finally stopped, out of breath, and held his side with one hand, looking desperately around and trying to find his way through the dark and all-similar forest. He heard noise and shouts to his right, and headed that way, running as fast as he could up some steep hill, to emerge from the trees at last, and embrace the scene that was unfolding before his eyes.

He spotted Merlin immediately, though he could only see his back. Merlin was yelling some words of the magical language Arthur thought was so interesting to hear, his voice loud, deep and assured, and with each of his moves he sent flying some of the thirty or so Saxons that faced him and threatened to surround him. Arthur cursed loudly: they were waiting here, in hiding, just waiting for their sorcerer to lure them out here in the open and ambush them. Raising his sword and screaming at the top of his lungs, Arthur started to make his way through the Saxons toward Merlin, who was still up and fighting. Seeing him hold his ground with his weapon of choice, which happened to be magic, filled Arthur with pride, and it was with renewed zeal that he cut his way through his enemies and finally reached his friend.

Merlin looked behind him and met Arthur's eyes, his own flashing gold one more time and sending a Saxon's sword through the chest of his closest ally. He smiled, and then it was only more combat. Arthur sliced and cut through enemy armor, while Merlin tried to keep them at a distance and have them hinder each other. But soon, it was too much. The sorcerer was back, standing behind the seemingly unending flow of Saxons, and he cast a strange shadow right at them. Hissing and wriggling, the shadow disappeared when Merlin deflected it with a swift move of his arm. He couldn't focus on the fighters anymore, for something far more deadly and powerful demanded his attention. Unfortunately, his strength was not infinite, and neither was Arthur's, and hearing Arthur curse as an enemy crashed his blade into his shoulder protection confirmed this theory. Merlin thought quick and made a decision.

"Arthur!" he yelled. "Come closer!"

Arthur did his best to do as asked, step backward by step backward, until he bumped into Merlin's back, who raised both his arms and yelled in the magical language.

"Sciath eild chosantalth!"

A luminous dome of light surrounded them both, and the Saxons seemed unable to bypass it, as they tried to advance and were thrown backward. Their swords also bounced off it, and Merlin didn't lose any more precious time, chanting again, but in a most different language. To Arthur, this language was rougher, harder, sterner, but also very powerful. He felt the power in these words brush against him, send a shiver down his spine, and looked intently as Merlin finished the sentence.

"O drakon, e mala soi ftengometh tesd'hup anankes, erkheo!"

For a moment that seemed like an eternity, Arthur felt helpless, the only thing he could do while Merlin help the shield up was stand near him and look threatening, just in case. The sorcerer sent another wave of dark energy toward them, but the shield blocked it.

"Arthur! Sheathe your sword," he heard Merlin say, "and whatever happens, let it be!"

The Prince was confused but did as he was asked to, opening his mouth to ask what exactly was going to happen, but a roaring sound coming from above prevented him to do so. He looked up, like all of the Saxons and the cloaked sorcerer, and strained his eyes against the clear sky to spot a flying form headed their direction. _A dragon?_ he thought. Did Merlin invoke a _dragon_? He put his hand back on his sword's pommel, only to feel Merlin's fingers close around his. He looked at the warlock, who smiled tiredly and shook his head. The dragon breathed fire over the Saxons, killing half of them in one sweep and making the others flee for their lives. The sorcerer tried to shout something at the dragon, but he disappeared, engulfed in a wave of dragon fire, before he could do anything. Their shield shimmered and then disappeared, Merlin collapsing, and Arthur caught him before he fell and held him up.

The dragon made a lazy turn and came back toward them, reached with one clawed paw and closed it gently around the two men before taking off again, flying high in the air, above the forest. This was the last thing Arthur saw before he passed out.


	4. Chapter 4

___A/N: Hello again, everyone. Here goes the fourth chapter, where things get interesting. Longest chapter ever, too, but there was no way to cut it somewhere without it feeling weird. I spilled my heart and my guts into this one. Feel free to leave a comment, or even, please do leave one. And a big, heartfelt thank you to the authors of those lovely reviews I already got. I love you all :3 Only the epilogue left to come!_

* * *

The Wonders of Magic

Arthur was waking up. He was able to think, or at least, feel, for the terrible headache he was suffering from left little space for anything else as he grunted, rolled over and tried to sit, one hand clenching his forehead. He looked around warily, taking in his surroundings, wondering briefly why, O why he was regaining his consciousness sprawled on the ground of a hill, when everything came back to him. It felt like a slap, and the blond Prince looked around frantically, blues eyes wide and darting everywhere, until he spotted Merlin lying still unconscious a few feet from him. He managed to stand, staggering a little, and closed the distance separating him from the dark-haired man the fastest he could.

Dropping to his knees, he grabbed Merlin's shoulder and turned him on his back, before laying his ear against the other's chest, holding back his breath. He felt the slow up-and-down of Merlin's breathing, and heard the regular beating of his heart. Arthur let out a loud sigh of relief.

"Thank _God_," he muttered, sitting back up.

"I'm sure you meant to thank _me_," said a loud voice coming from behind him.

The Prince, startled, jumped back on his feet and whirled around, hand ready to pull out his sword. Kilgharrah, lying on his stomach, dropped his head a bit toward Arthur and tilted his head.

"I mean you no harm, Arthur Pendragon, future king of Camelot," he said in a composed manner.

"But... You attacked Camelot!" Arthur said indignantly, hand still clasped over his sword's pommel.

"I did," the dragon said, looking far over Arthur's head as he did. "I was chained under your castle for so many years. I am the last of my kind, and I wanted freedom. When I finally got Merlin to free me, I was blinded by anger and resentment toward your father, who had my kin exterminated and myself imprisoned to show his so-called power..."

Arthur tried to process everything at once, failed, and that damned headache thrumming his temples didn't make it any easier. He let his sword go and massaged his brow with both hands, groaning.

"Wait, did you say... Merlin _freed _you? What's your... relationship to him?"

Kilgharrah looked at him and gave the impression to smile.

"I called out to him from my cave the very first day he arrived in Camelot, the first day he met you. You are aware of his nature." It was not even a question. "This is how he was able to hear me. Along the months and years he spent as your servant, he came to seek my advice many times, because he wanted to help you, mostly, or the kingdom, and I directed him in the best way I could. Which was often, I admit, not much, for some things he had to discover by himself, because of his Destiny."

Arthur frowned, processing what he had been told. Some words jumped at his mind.

"His destiny? What about his destiny?"

"I am a creature of magic, young Prince, and I can sometimes foresee things that have yet to come. The Merlin you know is prophesied to become the most powerful sorcerer that ever walked this world." There was some reverence in the dragon's voice as he spoke. "The druids call him Emrys, and he is bound to protect you. You are bonded through time and space, like two sides of the same coin, and Merlin's Destiny is to protect you, help you, advise you, and to be by your side, as if he has always been there, and always will, for as long as any one of you is alive."

Arthur was astonished, and he stared at his strange conversation partner for some time, eyes wide and mouth hanging slightly open, before his gaze trailed to the unconscious form of Merlin.

"That sounds horribly like a _till death do us part_ situation," he muttered for himself, letting the first thing that came to his mind slip out. Kilgharrah let out a loud and throaty laugh, and when Arthur looked back at him questioningly, the dragon only shook his head once, keeping the reason of his amusement to himself. If only Arthur knew...

"But," Arthur continued, pacing before the creature, rubbing his forehead again, though the headache started to fade, "tell me, why would you help Merlin protect _me_? From what I've heard, you have no reason to be particularly fond of my family. And, for that matter, why is Merlin supposedly destined to protect someone like me?"

"Arthur," the dragon said sternly, "Merlin is not the only one to have an unfulfilled Destiny ahead of him. _You_ are destined to be a great king and a just ruler, a king who will bring the kingdoms together and unite Albion for decades and decades of peace. And as you would accept that your father's views on magic were unfounded, I hoped to be freed, and to be able to fly the skies once more."

His tone was almost regretful.

"But, when you did get free..."

"I told you already. I was tired of waiting, so when Merlin came to ask for my help during the first time your sister Morgana took over the castle, I refused to give him what he asked for unless he swore to free me here and now." The dragon looked vaguely embarrassed, as much as Arthur could tell, which is not much. After all, he was not faced everyday with the task of deciphering a dragon's expressions. "After he agreed, he tried to make me swear that I would not harm Camelot, but I refused to agree. In all my rage and my anger, I did attack your castle."

"What made you stop, that time up the hill?" Arthur asked. "I was unconscious pretty quickly, and I suspect that it did not quite go as Merlin told me it did."

"Ah, probably not indeed," said the dragon with another bark of his deep laugh. "Merlin can... be assured of my help whenever he asks for it. You will have to ask him for more details, since he is waking up..."

Hearing this, Arthur spun around, and saw that Merlin had indeed woken up, and had managed to sit up. He looked still unfocused.

"_Merlin_!"

Arthur dropped back to his knees near the other, and on impulse, he wrapped one arm around him, his other hand simply resting on Merlin's shoulder, pulling his friend close for a few seconds. He pulled back, grinning brightly, holding Merlin at arm's length. The warlock let out a small laugh.

"Worried about me, much?" he said with a half grin of his own.

"You wish!" the Prince retorted, ruffling Merlin's hair.

Merlin then looked at Kilgharrah, who was gazing at them, something indescribable - even for a dragon - on his features.

"Well, thank you once more for getting us out of this mess," he said to the dragon. "I assume you had a small conversation?" He glanced at Arthur saying this.

"We did indeed," Kilgharrah inclined his head, starting to get back up on his legs. "But nothing unnecessary. You will have to do the rest. Goodbye, young warlock. Take care of both of you."

And with these words, he kicked the ground and took flight, quickly disappearing behind the tip of the trees.

They looked at the sky for a few moments more, before turning back to each other. Arthur had a specific look on his face. Merlin knew that look.

"So... I suppose you want to ask me some other things?" His raised eyebrow made the blond chuckle.

"Actually, yes, I do. The dragon told me many things, about coins and Destiny, yours, and also mine. I'm supposed to be some hero-king, and you are supposed to stay by me all my life." He started thoughtfully at Merlin, before breaking into a big grin. "How lucky can you get?" Merlin threw a half-hearted punch at his arm, rolling his eyes. "But, first and foremost: how in _hell_ did you call that dragon to help?"

"Well," Merlin rubbed the back of his head. "That's another story. Remember when we set out to search for Balinor?"

"The Dragonlord? Of course I remember..."

"He was my father," the warlock blurted out. "I only knew about it myself just before we began our journey, Gaius was the one who told me about him being my father. What I didn't know either was that Dragonlords' powers are hereditary, but only after the eldest Dragonlord dies. So when Balinor died, I inherited his magic, and while you were passed out on the ground, I commanded him to leave Camelot alone. Dragons are forced to obey a Dragonlord's words."

"And _you_ saved the day," Arthur whispered. "I knew my poor attempt at an attack didn't do much... But I would never have thought that _you_ were the one to scare the beast away."

"Can't blame you," Merlin shrugged. "I did pretty much everything I could to keep it from everyone and especially from you. I couldn't let you know, because I didn't know how you would have reacted, and I needed to stay by your side..."

"I understand," Arthur said flatly, and smiled at Merlin. "I really do." He stood, then held out his hand to Merlin, who took it without hesitation and was pulled on his feet. A mutual understanding passed between them as they took in their surroundings, estimated the time as mid-afternoon, and wondered if their friends who had stayed battling the first group of Saxons had managed to fight them off and come out alive. Worry etched on their faces.

"Can you walk?" Arthur asked.

"Yes, it's alright. Holding that shield up demanded a lot of energy, but I feel better now. Know what? I was inspired by that weird trap in the clearing the other day when I thought of something to protect us..."

"Really? So getting trapped wasn't a total waste of time then." There was a pause. "Well, know what? I'm glad you were here, Merlin. And," he added, softly, "thank you."

oooooooooo

Merlin and Arthur had stumbled upon the knights and the remaining guards on their way back to Camelot. The guards who were tasked with burying the dead had shown up not long after Arthur had ran off after Merlin, surprising the Saxons and guaranteeing victory. They had lost almost half a dozen men, and Percival's left arm was crudely wrapped up and hung from his neck. Elyan had taken a bad hit to the head, and a wound was bleeding above his eyebrow, but otherwise, they had suffered only bruises and light cuts. The knights had fetched their horses, and they rode back to Camelot. It was late afternoon by the time they arrived, and while the others lined up at the door of Gaius' apartments to have their wounds tended to and get a half-hearted scolding from the old physician, Arthur went to make his report to Uther.

He told Merlin that he would have dinner in his chambers tonight, and that right now he only wanted a bath and clean clothes. Merlin then passed through the kitchens to have a meal prepared for the Prince when it would be dinnertime, and set to prepare a hot bath. He was just pouring the last bucket in the tub when Arthur came in, untying the small silver circles that held his cape in place and looking at it in distaste.

"I'm going to need a new one," he said absently, letting the dirty, ragged and torn piece of cloth fall to the ground and advancing toward the tub. "Get me out of this thing," he told Merlin. "I wear it enough on a daily basis."

Merlin smiled and approached Arthur who held his arms out to him so that he could start to remove the first straps.

"Did you meet your father? How did it go?" Merlin went for the shoulder and arm protection first, it being the most uncomfortable part of the armor. Arthur shrugged.

"Oh, it went. My father didn't even asked about the woman from Alancre after I told him she was dead. I told him about the ambush and the battle. Since the others saw and heard the dragon from afar, I had to mention that it had randomly attacked the group of Saxons and their sorcerer and that we were lucky enough to make a run for it and escape." Merlin dropped the big piece of armor in a basket next to him, and pulled the gorget over the blond's head. "He believed all of it, well, why wouldn't he?"

Merlin nodded, and unfastened the vambraces strapped to Arthur's forearms, before pulling off the leather gloves beneath them.

"I guess he was just happy nothing happened to you," the warlock ventured, putting the gloves in the basket and stepping forward, working on Arthur's belt.

He undid the knot and the buckle, and half-embraced the Prince to grasp the part of the belt he held in his left hand with his right one, to prevent the sheathed sword to fall off. Doing this, his hair brushed Arthur's cheek, for he was just a little bit smaller than the blond. He could smell the oily, slightly metallic stench of the chainmail as well as Arthur's own earthy but sweaty scent. Pulling back, he grabbed the belt and sword in both his hands and crossed Arthur's gaze. He felt his cheeks heat up somehow, and averted his eyes, walking to the table to put the sword on it to be placed elsewhere when he was finished.

He had done the same motions a thousand times now. Why did it feel awkward _now_? The proximity of Arthur was now... unsettling to him. Maybe it was because the Prince knew his secret, his most precious and guarded secret. It felt... intimate. And he was not used to being intimate with people. No much people knew about it. One was his mother, and the other he loved as dearly as if he was his father. Arthur had always been of great importance to him, but he knew everything now. His magic, his father, their Destiny. Everything. It felt warm and worrying at the same time.

Arthur bent forward, arms extended before him, and Merlin pulled on his chainmail to get it off. Surprised as usual by the weight of the thing, Merlin grunted and stumbled a bit, before throwing it off in the basket over the other parts. The blond then threw his arms in the air and stretched, groaning loudly.

"I _so_ deserve that bath!" He slumped into a chair next to the tub, proceeded to remove his boots, and cast a look at Merlin. "You can bring back this stuff to the armory and go take a bath, or something, yourself. I'll take it from here. Be back with my dinner. I'll have the tub cleaned by someone."

"Alright!" said Merlin, throwing a smile in Arthur's direction, happy to be able to avoid the emptying and cleaning of the bathtub and rest a bit. "I'll see you later then."

He took the basket full of armor in his arms and got out of the Prince's chambers, trying to close the door behind him with his foot, and only succeeding in almost falling. He let out a curse, and managed to balance the basket between one arm and his chest, using the other to close the door.

Arthur had rolled his eyes and sighed at the mess Merlin made trying to close his door. He took off his other boot, then both his socks. He stopped there and stared at the tub without really seeing it. What had that been about? When Merlin had removed his belt, Arthur had been able to feel the tickle of his hair on his face, and his breath upon his neck. He had been conscious of it, when he never was before. And when Merlin had stepped back and looked at him, there was the... had that been embarrassment? - written all over his face, and then he had _blushed_. That Arthur would feel suddenly self-conscious about Merlin, that was one thing. But why would Merlin himself feel awkward around Arthur?

Back to that blush. Merlin had been _blushing_. His sharp cheekbones tinted in slight pink, barely noticeable, but Arthur had seen it up-close. It had made him to... _want_ to reach out with both hands and take Merlin's head into them. To ruffle his hair and see him protest, to hear that sharp intake of breath that happened whenever Merlin was surprised. To make him blush even more. To make him look confused and...

Arthur groaned and buried his face within his hands, his elbows resting on his thighs. Since he had discovered Merlin's magic, it had obsessed him. He finally managed to put his finger on what had put him off in his servant, but now it had opened up a whole new display of possibilities he wasn't sure what to make of. Merlin had seemed incompetent because he was clumsy. That wouldn't change. But he had been working as his servant because he needed to stay near him. Other than that, Merlin was witty. Merlin was cynical. Merlin was clever, funny, head-strong, rebellious, generous, caring, loyal, _insolent_, and having him around had been the best thing that had happened in Arthur's life. And now that he knew, Merlin had _magic_. Merlin was powerful. Merlin was strong. Merlin could handle himself in a fight as well as Arthur could with his sword. Merlin was capable. Merlin was bound to him because of a strange prophecy, and their destinies included always having the other around. Merlin wasn't inferior to him in any way.

Was this the reason why Arthur's blood was running faster whenever he thought of Merlin, and this side of him he never did see? He sure knew for sure that he appreciated - liked - had damn _affection_ for - the other man. But he couldn't very well show it around. Merlin was his servant, and from the way Uther had reacted to Arthur's trust in Merlin's words concerning knight Valiant and his snake-covered shield, he understood that whoever the servant might be, their words meant nothing. Hence all the _if I weren't a Prince, we would be friends_ moments. Now, even if he was almost the only one to know, he could affirm his friendship with Merlin, even if only in his mind. But _now_, this... this longing, these feelings when he thought of how close he and Merlin had become, the nagging in his chest which he couldn't interpret. Merlin's voice. Did his freed mind reveal something even more deeply anchored than that?

Knowing Merlin to be his equal, he realized that other servants were more than _just_ servants, magic or not. Gwen, Morgana's previous maid, seemed nice and clever enough, for instance. Lancelot had spoken of his desire to court her, too. He would be happy to give them his blessing. It had been obvious that they were one step away from being completely in love.

Arthur finally got up from his chair, undressed completely, laying his tight pants and his shirt on the back of said chair, and got in the tub. He leant against the wooden edge and threw his head backward, letting his mind whirl. His thoughts landed on Merlin. How... unusual... Unusual like this warm feeling in his chest as he recalled the dark-haired warlock smiling, grinning, being insufferable and witty, and speaking. Merlin had a nice voice. Deep and soft. even more when he was using magic. He remembered the silky words of the ancient language, and the unyielding, sultry force of the dragon tongue, being spoken by the deep voice of his friend.

Feeling the warmth go lower and lower, until it reached his nether regions, he opened his eyes wide and inhaled sharply. He was half-hard.

"What the hell," he muttered, and proceeded to quickly soak his hair, then grabbed the soap, and washed his blond bangs along with the rest of his body.

He got up, shivering slightly at the cool air on his skin, but grateful for the chill nonetheless. Taking his drying sheet, he dried the water off his body before stepping out of the bathtub and drying his legs too. He went and ruffled through his drawers, picking some clean clothes and putting them on. He walked to his bed and sat on the edge, battling with himself to keep his mind carefully blank.

This situation was going to prove itself a little challenging if it went on.

oooooooooo

Merlin, almost all of his energy returned after a good bath and some rest, along with a light dinner with Gaius, walked through the corridor with a tray in his hands. He was carrying Arthur's dinner, and a jug of wine. He barged in the Prince's chambers with his usual carelessness, though he was not feeling completely tranquil after his blushing fit right in front of Arthur.

"Dinner's ready!" he called, heading for the table and looking around at the same time. He found Arthur at his desk, with some papers before him he did not appear to have been reading. The ink on the quill he held was all dried up. His frown lifted when he laid his eyes on Merlin, and he got up.

"Oh, good timing, Merlin," he said lightly, "I was beginning to starve."

"Listening to you, one might believe that you always are on the brink of starvation," Merlin shot back, rolling his eyes.

"Maybe that's because of you being an awful servant!"

"Wouldn't think so. Being your servant has an advantage: I know what and how much you eat. You eat like two!"

"I need the energy to preserve my muscled body, that's why."

Merlin laughed.

"Alright, but don't even think of complaining the next time I have to pierce another hole in your belt... Hey!" he added, dodging the tomato that was thrown at him, "stop playing with food!"

Arthur sat down and started to eat, shaking his head with a half smile, before contemplating his actions just now. He had no problem whatsoever acting like normal with Merlin. He even quickly stopped thinking that he had to sound normal, only to focus on their usual banter. His smile lingered as he looked at the other, who was grumbling and picking up the tomato that had bounced off a wall and rolled under his bed.

"Have you eaten already?" the blond asked.

Merlin nodded.

"I ate with Gaius before coming here."

"Then, want some wine? There's enough. Grab a goblet and pour us some."

"I don't hold my alcohol very well, you know..."

"Just a little can't hurt you," Arthur insisted, not really knowing why.

Merlin, frowning all the way, got a goblet from the cupboard near the table, set it next to Arthur's cup and filled them with wine. He did pour less of it in his own though.

Arthur finished his chicken leg and leaned back into his chair, crossing one leg over the other and grabbing his cup, swallowing some of the wine. Merlin took a small sip, but not much. The blond spotted a small bowl on his tray, and let out a sound.

"Ah! You got me peaches!"

"I know you like them," Merlin shrugged. "And they looked perfectly ripe."

Arthur finished his cup of wine and grabbed a peach, taking a mouthful of it, not caring to peel it. Merlin had an eye there: it was delicious.

After he finished the fruit, he let the stone fall in his plate, and, not waiting for Merlin to do it, he poured himself more wine.

"Don't get yourself drunk," Merlin warned. "I might not want to pull your royal ass to bed if you get wasted."

"I am the Prince, Merlin, and I shall drink as I see fit," Arthur grinned toward him. He felt the warmth of the wine settling comfortably in his stomach.

Merlin, shook his head, smiling softly.

"You are impossible," he murmured affectionately, and his heart went out to this man, sometimes rude, sometimes arrogant, sometimes stupid, but whom had been his immovable centre for several years now.

Arthur sipped the wine quietly, eyes trailing around the room but falling on Merlin every now and then. There was a silence as Arthur still sat, drinking from his cup, and Merlin stood near the table, swaying back and forth on his heels, turning the wine into his goblet without really drinking it.

Merlin finally put the goblet back on the table and wandered to the window, looking thoughtful. He stared outside for a few minutes, and when he turned back, he saw Arthur reaching for the jug again. Merlin didn't want to deal with a drunk Arthur tonight. He extended his hand and said a word, his eyes flashed, and the jug literally flew from Arthur's reach and landed of top of the high drawers, out of reach. Merlin was already half smiling, thinking of the spoiled brat reaction that he was ought to witness now. He certainly did not expect what happened then.

Arthur had been thinking when he ran out of wine. He absent-mindedly reached for the jug, only to hear a silky voice behind him speaking one of these smooth words he didn't understand, and saw the jug fly away from him. He all but jumped out of his chair, standing straight enough that he thought he would snap in half. He fisted his hands, as feelings, most certainly helped out by the wine, cascaded into his mind and his heart. His heart started beating erratically. The warm feeling of the wine in his stomach spiked up his chest and back, spreading to his neck and arms, the palms of his hand tingling with something he wouldn't name.

Later, he would be grateful for the wine. He ignored if he could have done what he did then without it.

He turned around, hands still in fists, and marched toward Merlin, his expression all but amused. His face was blank, to say the truth, and Merlin's smile quickly dropped from his lips as he watched the Prince advance, and advance still, until Merlin had backed off the two steps that separated him from the wall. What was the problem? Was Arthur mad? When his back hit the wall, Arthur slammed his hands on each side of Merlin's head, something heated and unknown in his blue eyes. The blond's breathing was fast and loud.

"Do that again," he growled, looking straight in Merlin's eyes. When Merlin looked confused, Arthur almost sighed in frustration. He needed something, right now, and he was going to have it. "Use it. Again."

Merlin understood what he meant, and looked frantically around for something to do magically. At a loss, he stared at Arthur's face, trying to see through it, and simply breathed out the three small words he had already used once, as he raised his hand in the small space left between their bodies. His eyes glowed golden, and a bluish orb of white light appeared into his palm, spiraling on itself.

Arthur took in all of this. Merlin's voice, the words, his eyes when they turned to gold, the blue orb at which he stared a few seconds. He made the connection with the orb of light that had guided him out of the creepy cave full of spiders all those years ago, when Merlin had been dying from a poison meant for him. He looked back at Merlin, taking in all of him too. It was when the dam broke.

Getting even closer to Merlin than he already was, he dropped his right hand to brush the warlock's neck, trail it lightly up his jaw, while he noticed the nervous swallowing and the shivers his fingers elicited, then he almost cupped his cheek, ghosting over the skin. Merlin didn't know exactly what was happening, but it was creating such strong emotions inside of him that he couldn't say a word. His hand fell back to his side, the orb disappearing, and his breathing quickened when Arthur's hand reached his hair and wound his fingers into the dark tresses. Arthur leaned forward again, and they were breathing in each other's air, lips and faces inches apart. This was as close as Arthur got, for he shut his eyes tightly, the hand he left on the wall trying to clutch and claw at the stones. He breathed deeply, and opened his eyes, serious as he ever was, and stared down into Merlin's who was still short of breath.

When the blond spoke, his voice was rough and throaty.

"If you want to leave, say so."

His voice was so full of things unsaid and barely repressed, of wanton feelings that slipped out without his knowing. Arthur would not force himself, whatever it is he had been about to do, on anyone, especially not Merlin. Merlin was special. And as much as Arthur longed to make him understand this, he still gave him a choice.

Merlin breathed out slowly, trying to gather his wits and not really succeeding. His eyes closed for a moment, as he focused on his current situation and tried to understand what he felt. He had not been scared, no, he had even been... expectant of what he thought would follow. He looked back up at Arthur, straight in his eyes. He saw the tension in them, and in his posture, his shoulders stiff as he waited for Merlin to say something, his jaw clenched. The silent plea adorning his face. He had felt the uncertainty in the blond's words, and he contemplated his own feelings for a short time.

Arthur and he would spend most of their life together, if not all of it. Merlin would die for him anytime. Right here, right now, Merlin understood in which ways the Prince was _his other half_. He did love him, as you would love your dearest friend, despite their faults, in fact loving them even more because of them. If the love was platonic, as two friends would, it was alright. But Arthur made it clear that it could possibly _not _be... Merlin made a decision. If there was anyone he trusted with his life and more, it was Arthur. If there was anyone he would accept these feelings from, it was Arthur. If there was anyone he would give these feelings to, it was Arthur.

Not leaving his Prince's eyes even one second, Merlin raised both hands, trembling with nervousness and expectation, and rested them on the blond's ribs, lightly, before trailing them up his chest, gripping his shoulders in passing. He caressed both sides of his neck, brushing both his thumbs along the sides of his jaw, and eventually clasped his hands on the nape of his neck, slowly pulling down until their foreheads touched. He closed his eyes then.

"Do I look like I want to leave?" His voice was a bit strangled, even deeper than his usual tone, and full of emotion. "I'm not leaving you." His hold tightened on Arthur's neck in a sort of sudden possessiveness, and he opened his eyes to stare at his face. "Never."

Arthur couldn't move. He closed his eyes tightly for a second, taking in a shaky breath, feeling the heat of Merlin's hands on his neck. He didn't resist when he felt Merlin pull his head down some more, reveling in the fact that the other man trusted him to that extent, trusted him to offer him his very core. And he wanted to receive this, and to give his own in exchange, and he loved Merlin like a best friend, like family, and now he wanted to love him even more than that. Merlin brushed his lips to his own and pressed them together tentatively. The poorly reconstructed dam broke down, and this time the river flowed through, filling Arthur's veins with something hot and pleasant. The simple contact sent shivers everywhere, and he plunged for more, his body pressing Merlin's into the wall in his need for contact and pressure.

There was the slow, slightly awkward motions of something unknown, savoring the discovery of each other, the occasional bumping of teeth not quelling their enthusiasm in the slightest. Merlin was still clutching Arthur's neck tightly, sometimes weaving one or both of his hands in the blond hair. From holding his weight off the wall, the Prince's arms dropped to encircle the warlock's waist, palming his hipbones and his ribs and the small of his back in a rush for contact

Their exchange grew more heated within moments, embracing each other closer, hands everywhere they could reach, their kiss more urgent. Merlin didn't really notice when he accidentally brushed Arthur's lips with his tongue, but he noticed the moan that escaped the Prince's lips, and the small bite he received in return. He inhaled sharply, and Arthur took advantage of this to trail his tongue along Merlin's lower lip, who shivered and opened his mouth, just slightly.

It felt hot, and intimate, and satisfying, and Arthur tasted like peaches, and, like Arthur.

Heat and desire was pooling in both of them, and Arthur backed up a bit, gasping for breath. He took in Merlin's flushed face, his quick breathing, his heavy-lidded eyes clouded with desire, and while his hands worked to undo the belt over the warlock's shirt, he dropped a kiss to his neck, inhaling the scent of him, before biting maybe a bit too hard, but from the moan he let out, Merlin didn't seem to mind. Suckling and biting again at the same spot, he let the belt drop to the floor, and was glad that he himself hadn't cared to wear one after his bath.

Finally leaving Merlin's neck alone, he pressed their bodies back together, rolling his hips against the other man's, earning a groan from both of them as their arousal grew and became impossible to ignore. Merlin's hands dropped from Arthur's neck and hair, and looking at the Prince in front of him, breath short and disheveled, lips reddened and parted, he fisted them in the cloth of Arthur's shirt and thrust his hips forward, gasping as he did.

The blond shuddered at the friction, grabbed both of Merlin's arms, pulling him as he stepped backward. His shin bumped against his bed, and he abruptly sat on it, maneuvering so that Merlin landed on top of him, straddling his lap. They exchanged a gaze full of want and feelings and trust, and Arthur's hands reached the back of Merlin's neck, untying his neckerchief and dropping it on the floor, his eyes never leaving Merlin's face. He then slipped his hands under the blue shirt and tugged it upward, over Merlin's head and down his arms, before dropping it too. He reached down the legs resting on either side of him and pulled off the warlock's boots, then kicked off his own.

Merlin let him do as he wished, arms hanging at his sides, watching as he was undressed. He felt nervous and self-conscious as his body was partly revealed to the eyes of the man before him, that man who would be king one day. On impulse, he didn't let Arthur the time to do anything else after taking off his boots, and grabbed the back of his shirt, gently pulling it off, over the blond head. He dropped it near his own, and took Arthur's face between his hands. The Prince's hand came to rest on his forearms, caressing his skin. Merlin looked straight in the blue eyes in front of him, and saw his affection and his desire mirrored. He leaned in and kissed Arthur once more, only slow and loving, conveying all the strength of his feelings, knowing they were not vain and that he was loved the same way.

Arthur rolled his hips again, and Merlin, breaking their kiss, let out a breathy _ah! _that turned him on even more than he already was. He grabbed a handful of dark hair, pulling slightly, and bit the pale skin of the offered neck, while his other hand trailed up the naked chest, thumb brushing a nipple into hardness. Merlin gasped and arched against him, grinding their now fully hard organs together. He didn't know where to start, his mind was blank with the pleasure Arthur brought him, so he just abandoned himself completely into these trusted and desired hands, only _feeling_.

Amazed at the reactions he could bring to him, Arthur rested one hand flat against Merlin's back and bent his head to kiss the nipple his other hand wasn't working on. This, he discovered, was a very sensitive area. He kissed and lapped, bit and pulled, while his other hand caressed and teased, until he had Merlin writhing in his embrace, gasping and moaning. Merlin who was driving him mad with lust and want. The marks Arthur's fingers and mouth left on his pale skin were numerous, and the body he held was skinny but far from weak, and he wanted nothing more than what it was.

It was Merlin who surprised him when he trailed his hands all over him too, caressing the shoulders and the collarbone, trailing down his arms then down his chest, brushing his nipples, then down still, until he decidedly palmed his throbbing member through the cloth of his breeches. Arthur gasped loudly, arching into Merlin involuntarily.

"Arthur," Merlin breathed, his voice deep, silky, sultry, full of desire, for _him_. "Arthur," he moaned again as his Prince bucked up his hips into the warlock's palm desperately. "Arthur..." It was almost a whimper, and hearing Merlin, of all people, say his name like that, of all manners, sent a fury of lust down his belly that could not be restrained.

He unlaced Merlin's breeches with both hands, pulling and tugging until they opened, while the dark-haired man did the same to his own pants. There was a single second of hesitation as they stared at each other, before Merlin took upon him to reach under the cloth. Arthur's moan lasted more than he would have liked, but he couldn't help it. Seeing and feeling Merlin's cool hand stroke his hardness was too much. He reached out to reciprocate, but finally pulled Merlin even more into him, bumping their members together, eliciting deep moans from them both. He encircled both of them with one hand, and felt Merlin's own hand shift under his so that he too was holding both of their erections.

They moved their hands slowly, up and down, and rested their foreheads together, looking either at what they were doing or each other's eyes. When they found a rhythm, it rushed suddenly into groans and moans and gasps for breath, Arthur whispering Merlin's name every now and then, pleasure building up, and up, and more, until Merlin saw white and blanked out, shuddering and emitting a low moan against Arthur's lips, who kissed him deeply and messily and rode his own orgasm at the tightening of Merlin's hand around them.

They stayed a long time in the tight embrace, each breathing into the other's neck, savoring the scent that were uniquely them, catching their breath. They separated to look at each other. Merlin was smiling shyly, and Arthur dropped a small kiss on his lips. Now they were complete. Friends, brothers, lovers. Trusted and trusting, loving and loved, bound in ways both magical and physical. Together, and destined to be.

* * *

_Suprise A/N: These two have a _t'hy'la _feeling to me, if you know what I mean. If not, and would like to, look it up, it's interesting :)_


	5. Epilogue

_A/N: There you go. Epilogue. Won't say more. The feels, damn the feels. I had to rewatch the finale in order to get this right, and it left me depressed to the point of crawling on the floor. So here, it's the end. Laugh all you want, I'm sad. I had a lot of fun writing this.  
_

_Thank you again for reading, favoriting, etc. And an enormous thank-you hug to anyone who took the time to review, each one of them was and will be very appreciated._

_I hope you enjoyed the story so far, and that you will enjoy this epilogue too._

* * *

The Wonders of Magic

Epilogue

Arthur felt the crown weight upon his brow, as if Geoffrey of Monmouth had just poured a cauldron of molten lead on his head instead of crowning him king of Camelot. He barely listened to the end of the coronation ceremony, and when it was time to get back on his feet and face his people, he thought he would never manage to get up.

He worked his knees so that he would stand again on his feet, his cape heavy on his shoulders. He turned around slowly, his face inexpressive. Geoffrey then shouted "Long live the king!", and the people in front of him repeated the words, hailing their new king and ruler.

_The king is dead, long live the king_, he thought bitterly.

His father was dead. Morgana had succeeded in at least that. Arthur's gaze trailed along the high doors on the other side of the throne room, face still blank. The way Merlin had battled with her though, had not let her escape unharmed. It was safe to think that she was not dead, but she will probably not show herself again before some time.

Arthur frowned, and his eyes fell on Merlin, on the front rows. He wasn't hailing him like the others, but seemed to have been steadily looking at him throughout the ceremony. His hands were clasped at his back, his face unreadable, and their eyes locked. There was no need for words. For a moment, it was as though they were alone in the room. The cries of celebration were dulled, and everything seemed to slow down.

Merlin cast a sad smile at Arthur, his eyes telling him many things in a single look. It gave him back the strength he needed.

Arthur straightened, stiffening his shoulders, looked purposely at his people and raised both hands to quell the hails. He began the speech he had to make.

"People of Camelot, I will hereby begin my reign by making a declaration..."

oooooooooo

"Merlin! Did you hid my crown or something?"

"Why in Kilgharrah's name would I do that?!"

"With you, I never know..." Arthur muttered.

"I heard that!"

"Maybe you're jealous of the regal attitude it gives me and you stole it from me, for all I know!" the Prince joked.

"I certainly do not want it for myself. It's heavy, pointy and way too thick."

Merlin came out from behind the screen where he had been dressing, adjusting his belt. Arthur couldn't help but look at him in the middle of his search for his crown. Merlin wore black boots and tight, dark grey pants. His shirt was also black, and over that he had a long, dark blue coat which was left open, silvery patterns sewn on the rim of the sleeves, which were rather large around his wrists, and also down the sides that were not closed on his chest. A belt made of palm-sized circles of silver-like metal was worn over all of this, dangling down the knees and accentuating Merlin's narrow hips. He wore a silver chain around his neck, with a small pendant shaped like a dragon, though it was not the Pendragon crest.

Feeling Arthur's eyes on him, he stopped fiddling with the belt and put his hands on his hips, raising his eyebrows.

"What? Were you not frantically looking around for the very symbol of your kingly self?"

Arthur chuckled. Merlin looked good in these clothes.

"Still saying you hid it somewhere."

"I did _not_! I already have enough to worry about with this thing!" He reached for the nearest dresser and picked up a thin silver circle engraved with a pattern of leaves, making it hang off one of his fingers and spinning it around carelessly. "Whose idea was it already that I should wear this?"

"_Mine_, you idiot!" Arthur rolled his eyes, and said sarcastically: "Sorry, _my lord_, next time I appoint you Advisor of the King and Court Sorcerer of Camelot, I will ensure it does not go against your sense of fashion!" Merlin dramatically held his hand to his heart, making a show of looking deeply hurt. "And don't give me your usual silliness."

Merlin gave up the act and crossed his arms.

"Then, what's with the crown, dearest king? It is your job to wear one."

"We already talked about this, Merlin," he said calmly, resuming his search for the royal accessory that stubbornly refused to be found. Arthur thought idly that maybe Merlin had rubbed off on it in terms of stubbornness. "It's been three years since my father passed away, and the very first thing I did after having that damned crown up my head was denunciating all my father's views on magic, and assure the people that magic would only be punished if it was used to evil ends. It caused an uproar in the kingdom. It's also been two years that I decided to give you the place you deserve at my side. With the crown thing, I made a point of presenting you as my equal and my most trusted ally, who also happened to be a sorcerer. It was a strong act meant for the people and all the magic users to see and acknowledge."

Merlin sighed, and put on the small silver circle, adjusting it around his head and ruffling his short hair around it.

"I know all that. I'm sorry. I just feel silly whenever I wear it. But I understand the need." He stepped toward Arthur, who was absent-mindedly lifting the pillows on his bed, and rested a hand on his arm. Arthur's other hand raised and brushed a slight caress on Merlin's, before curling around his fingers and squeezing affectionately.

"And, now that you mention it," Merlin said slowly, "I might know where your crown is..."

"What? Where?"

"Under the wardrobe."

"... What in the hell would it be doing under there?"

Merlin's smile was positively wicked.

"I may have thrown it a little bit too enthusiastically after I took it off your head last night, right before I toppled you on the bed..."

"_Mer_lin!"

This particular way of saying his name will always make him smile. He whirled around Arthur, grinning madly and making a quick escape to the door.

"Hurry up and get it back, we have to marry Gwen and Lancelot in less that fifteen minutes!" He laughed wholeheartedly at the curses directed at him. "I love you too!"

oooooooooo

Arthur dragged Merlin by the arm from the throne room to his chambers. Merlin had a big smile on his face, placidly accepting to be led by his king. They arrived to the king's rooms, and Arthur slammed the door open, dragged Merlin in and slammed it shut, before pressing his lover against it, his hands already roaming his chest. He pressed open-mouthed kisses on the pale skin of Merlin's neck, who inhaled sharply at the so-well-known hands on him.

"I thought the feast was _never _going to end," Arthur moaned into Merlin's neck, sucking and licking it between words. "The moment when the king can excuse himself is _very _far away from the beginning of the festivities..."

"Come on, Arthur, we celebrate the wedding of two friends..."

"Yes, but I wanted _you_. Gwen and Lance were bedded almost an hour ago. Gwen's _face_ when Percival threw her over his shoulder..." Arthur _giggled_, and tugged at Merlin's belt to undo it.

"And Lance was just looking apologetic when Gwaine and Elyan dragged him forward." Merlin helped Arthur with his belt, and it clanged on the floor. His coat followed, sliding down his back. "You've had too much to drink, Arthur," he whispered at the same time he was unbuckling Arthur's belt, letting it fall and join his own belt and coat next to their feet.

"You're not better," Arthur mumbled, and he pulled Merlin in for a kiss, heated and loving, tender and rough, all at the same time. "Finally," he breathed against Merlin's lips before kissing him more.

Merlin roamed his hands under Arthur's shirt, and moved one leg between the blond's, feeling the arousal here, and rubbed against it, making the other moan.

"Someone will obviously start asking questions as to why you're not in your own rooms more than half of the time," Arthur mumbled, leaving Merlin's mouth to bite at his neck. Merlin snorted.

"Because you think there are still people who don't know about us?"

"Are there?"

"Probably the farmers from the village the furthest from Camelot, yes..." Merlin pushed Arthur off him and took off his silver crown, putting it on the table near them. He whirled to face his king again, and tenderly took the royal crown off, placing it near his own. "Do you know what the people call me now? You've never heard it? I'm not quite the king's advisor or personal sorcerer to them. They call me the prince consort!"

It was Arthur's turn to snort.

"Well, that's fitting!" He pulled his shirt over his head and threw it somewhere. "Now come here, Prince Consort. Which is true, by the way. I shall write a decree. If I die, you rule the kingdom."

Merlin stared at Arthur, watching him stretch and trailing his eyes longingly on the body of the man he loved.

"That wouldn't be wise. You won't die without me," he said simply, and upon these words, he embraced Arthur tightly, seeking his mouth and kissing him passionately.

Arthur groaned, pulled roughly on Merlin's shirt to remove it, and they both kicked their boots off before tumbling on the bed in a heap of arms and legs clutching and caressing everywhere they could.

"I love you, Arthur," Merlin whispered almost desperately while undoing the blond's pants.

"And I you."

And this answer was offered unconditionally, the words voiced once, echoing into the blue eyes, and confirmed by a hand lovingly caressing one cheek.

oooooooooo

"Tell me something I don't know."

Merlin quirked an eyebrow at Arthur questioningly. They were laying against each other, naked, their legs tangled in the sheets and with each other. Arthur laid on his back, and Merlin was snuggled against his side, his arm thrown over the blond's waist.

"Something you don't know?"

"About you," Arthur clarified with a lazy wave of his hand.

"Something you don't know about me? Arthur, I hate to break it to you, but I don't think there are still things of importance that you don't know about me."

"Then tell me something unimportant that I don't know about you." Arthur was trying hard to suppress a grin, and Merlin saw it.

"Prat," he mumbled, chuckling when his hair was ruffled in punishment. "Well. Let's see." Merlin was thinking hard. He threw his head back in defeat. "Really, nothing comes to mind right now. Every magic feat, you know about it. Your father once married a troll? The very first time I used magic in your presence was to kill that mud creature in the sewers with your torch? I wanted to flay you alive with magic the first time I ever saw you? You know all this. I hate salted fish?"

"Really? You hate salted fish? I never noticed."

Merlin rolled his eyes.

"You never pay attention to anything anyway."

"Not true!" Arthur whacked at Merlin's shoulder playfully. "Hey, wait a minute. Flay me alive?" Merlin only snorted, earning another punch in the arm.

They were silent for some time, just enjoying each other's company. Merlin sighed softly.

"You know, I once said to you that I would be happy to be your servant until the day I die."

"Yes, right before going to that island to sacrifice yourself for me when I was dying from some beast's venom?"

Merlin felt Arthur's arm around him tighten at the words, and he squeezed his side reassuringly.

"Yes. Well, I meant it. I never asked you to make me your advisor or anything."

"Yes, well, I know that too. I had to make my point, like making you wear a crown. And since I love you, I filled the gap between our ranks because I didn't want anyone to consider you inferior ever again. After all you did..."

Merlin kept silent, and simply embraced Arthur tighter.

"Thank you," he whispered.

Arthur planted a kiss on top of his head.

oooooooooo

"We have to make it to the lake," Merlin gasped, but his legs gave away under the weight of Arthur draped around his shoulders.

He had just killed Morgana, going through her with Arthur's magic sword, and twisting the blade inside her, but his concerns were all focused around Arthur, who had fallen on top of him, and whom he was trying to get back up on his feet.

"Merlin, not without the horses. We can't, it's too late..." Merlin grabbed Arthur's chest from behind, refusing to acknowledge the tranquil resignation in his king's voice. "It's too late... With all your magic, Merlin, you can't save my life..."

"No, I can't. But I'm not gonna lose you!"

Merlin tried to get better access to Arthur's arms and pull him up, but the blond just patted the hand that was on his chest, trying to stop Merlin's frantic attempts.

"Just... Just... Just hold me, _please_." Merlin stopped moving, and his head rested a bit on Arthur's shoulder. "There's something I want to say," he added.

"You're not going to say goodbye," Merlin choked, anger in his voice at feeling so useless.

"No, Merlin..." Arthur gathered his wits. "Everything you've done... I've known for some time now. For me, for Camelot, for the kingdom you've helped me build..."

"You would have done it without me."

Arthur let out a laugh, but it didn't last long.

"Maybe..." The blond seemed to slip away a bit, and Merlin stared at him in despair and disbelief, before his lover's eyes focused on him once more. "I already said thank you before, for everything." He smiled up at Merlin, and raised his arm to clasp his hand behind Merlin's head, staring deep into his eyes. "And... There is nowhere else I'd like to be in this moment."

Arthur's eyes rolled, and his hand fell back.

"Arthur? No, Arthur!"

The blue eyes snapped back into focused, looked at him, and finally closed again. Merlin yelled Arthur's name several times, on the brink of tears, and suddenly looked up at the sky, shouting the words that would summon Kilgharrah. He rested his forehead against Arthur's, tears rolling freely on his face.

With the help of the dragon, he managed to bring Arthur to the banks of the lake of Avalon, and he started desperately dragging Arthur's body near the waters.

"Merlin," Kilgharrah said, sorrow echoing in his voice, caused by the fate that had stricken the two men. "There's nothing you can do."

"I failed," Merlin stated blankly, stopping in his tracks.

"No, young warlock, for all that you have dreamt of building have come to pass."

Merlin hoisted the body in his arms higher, shouting.

"I can't lose him! He's my friend, I _love _him!"

"Though no man, no matter how great, can know his destiny, some lives have been foretold, Merlin. Arthur is not just a king, he is the Once and Future King. Take heart," he added, knowing that his words couldn't soothe the world of pain he was seeing in front of him, "for when Albion's need is greatest, Arthur will rise again."

Merlin stared down at Arthur, disbelief written all over his face.

"It has been a privilege to have known you, young warlock. The story we have been a part of will live long in the minds of men. Also," he said, inclining his head toward Merlin, "I am sorry."

Upon these words, Kilgharrah took flight again. Merlin rested gently Arthur's body on the ground, and stared at the lake of Avalon before him. He had an impulse to yell to Albion's needs to go to hell and never come back. After all this time, after all that he had done, maybe he deserved to be a little selfish? He clenched his jaw. It was not what Arthur would have wanted.

Taking Arthur's sword, he threw it far into the lake, amazed to see a feminine hand rise up from the water to grab the handle and slowly bring it under. So there was hope. Maybe.

Some time later, Merlin had arranged Arthur's body on a boat - there always was a boat when you needed one near magical places. Even when the need was as dire as a friend's funeral. Tears rolling on his cheeks, he rested his hand on Arthur's brow, and started sobbing. He regained his composure briefly, brushed his friend, love, and king's face one more time, and with a whisper of magical words, he sent the boat away toward the central isle. Tears rolled freely once again.

The kingdom of Camelot never saw Merlin again.

oooooooooo

The old man sat on a lonely bench, along the pedestrian road making its way around the lake. He had been here since early in the morning, and had not moved since he arrived. He let his gaze trail back and forth on the dark waters before him, sometimes staring for long minutes at the island in the middle of it.

His joints ached, and he absent-mindedly rubbed his hands against each other. This particular day of the year was the one when he felt the most the weight of all his years, so he chose his appearance consequently. Looking eighty years old was old enough for him, because no matter the centuries that had passed, he would not look older than what he looked like right now. Maybe some days he had thought that it was a curse. Maybe there was no hope after all.

He stared at the lake some more, and more again, until the sun was low in the sky and the air had lost its warmth. The old man got up wearily, walked to the bank and knelt awkwardly. He reached out his hand and dipped it into the water, closing his eyes and staying like that a few moments.

He then got up, wiped his hand on his trousers and rubbing his eyes glistening with tears. He cast a last look at the lake, about to leave, when he froze and stared. The evening had brought fog around the island in the middle of the lake, but there was something through it. A form moved forward, gliding on the waters, and the old man, after a few minutes, could make out a boat, advancing toward the shore.

Staring at it until he could see a human figure standing on the boat, the old man blinked, and suddenly he was standing straighter. His slumped shoulders seemed to straighten, as well as his back. The twinkling in his blue eyes didn't disappear as his face became something else, younger, with sharp features and prominent cheekbones and full lips. His hair shortened and darkened until it was a mop of ruffled black curls. The weight had lifted, and he had gotten so used to it he thought he was floating. He could be young again. He gave his very first real smile since _then_. The figure became clearer, revealing a tall blond man in shining chainmail, red cape flowing behind him, with a square jaw, blond bangs and blue eyes as timeless as the ones belonging to the man who had waited for him so long. A single tear rolled down the face of the one standing on the bank of the lake.

It was over. Finally.

"Arthur," he breathed.

The End


End file.
